


Hunger

by timkons



Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015)
Genre: Bottom!Hernan, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timkons/pseuds/timkons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hernan has plans to sate Kirk's hunger using something other than fake plasma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Hambriento (traducción)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594899) by [AriesNoHope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesNoHope/pseuds/AriesNoHope)



"You're hungry."

Kirk looks up from the vial of fake plasma he just finished concocting, his face betraying none of his thoughts. Hernan is a peculiar but not unwelcome sight in his lab. It's cramped enough with just Kirk in the gloomy darkness of the lab, let alone Hernan's bulking figure standing proud and with his arms crossed over his chest in the middle of Kirk's doorway. Now it's just downright claustrophobic. Kirk mentally shakes the thought, returning his attention to the scarlet substance too thick to be blood in his hands. "I just finished making a new batch."

"You're _hungry_ ," Hernan repeats evenly, quirking an eyebrow. When Kirk refuses to answer to that, Hernan relaxes. "How long have we known each other? I know the plasma doesn't satisfy you."

The scientist resists the urge to shiver at the way 'satisfy' rolls off Hernan's tongue in just the right way. It's been so long since his body felt warm with the strum of blood running through his veins, and the memory of what now feels like a foreign sensation echoes in his body any time Hernan is near. "It's sufficient."

Hernan shakes his head as he takes a few steps into the lab, closing the door behind him. Kirk knows 'sufficient' isn't good enough for him. It's always been about more with Hernan. It isn't simply good enough to take in a crazed, red-eyed man with a rat in his mouth. No, he had to go and provide him a warm bath, a clean room, and a state-of-the-art lab on top of it all. Kirk stiffens as Hernan presses against his back and holds back another shiver, runs a palm down his side until it rests on his hip. "You could just ask." 

At that, Kirk stills. He places down the glass he'd been working on, turning in Hernan's grasp to face him. Hernan's reflex is to reach up for Kirk's face, tracing Kirk's cheekbones with a thumb. "It hurts you."

"I don't mind it," Hernan confesses, voice more sincere and deep than it ought to be. 

Hernan is closer than he probably should be and Kirk knows it. Any argument about harmful toxic chemicals would be met with stubbornness. This is Superman Kirk is worried about, after all. Is it ridiculous to worry about Superman, the man of steel? "What if I do?"

"I want to do this for you." Hernan frowns. His hand falls from Kirk's cheek down his face, cups Kirk's neck for a moment before running down his chest. Kirk takes a deep, steadying breath as Hernan's palm rests over his heart. It's beating, albeit slower and softer than most. Kirk can tell from the crease on Hernan's forehead that he's concerned with how faint it must sound. "When was the last time you fed?"

"Week ago. When we busted the raid uptown." Kirk's answer is immediate and stiff. Hernan hums in response, fingers softly petting at his chest. Kirk turns his face away from Hernan, away from the door. If there was a proper amount of blood in his body, he'd be blushing. "Close the door, at least."

His request makes Hernan laugh. The door closes shut with a click a moment later and if not for the breeze sweeping up the stray papers in Kirk's lab and the sweep of his hair, he wouldn't have even noticed Hernan released him. Hernan pulls him closer this time and dips his face closer to Kirk so that their noses bump. Kirks resists the urge to squirm, still like the corpse he feels he is. This is the one thing Hernan will never let him live down. "Better?"

"Much," Kirk replies, nodding just enough that his lips brush against Hernan's. This isn't a new position for them by any means, but Kirk has always been one to maintain privacy. Hernan thought it was simply a matter of making sure Bekka didn't walk in on them, but even now that she was gone, Kirk insisted on closing the door and avoiding public displays of affection. 

Hernan kisses him first, so firm and passionate that Kirk has to hold on to keep steady. Hernan kisses like he does anything else: gentle but solid. He doesn't have to concentrate like Kirk; he kisses freely and lovingly. Nothing about his lips are tentative. It scares Kirk sometimes how comfortable he is with Hernan trailing his tongue along his teeth, fearlessly lingering on his fangs. It scares him how much he enjoys Hernan's short beard rubbing against his face and his warm hands on the small of his back.

When Kirk pulls away, he tries to mask the breathlessness in his voice. It doesn't work, of course. "Do you want the drink or do you want the light?"

"Drink," Hernan whispers with a smile so genuine that the skin around his eyes wrinkle. 

Kirk narrows his eyes, the whites of them red. They've had this conversation at least ten times. It was quicker - not to mention safer - just to turn on the red lights, which would strip Hernan of his powers. The second Hernan wanted his powers restored, all it took was a flick of a switch. In truth, Kirk enjoyed it whenever Hernan drank a mix of liquid kryptonite and alcohol because it helped him relax when he drank from Hernan. Still, just because he liked it better didn't mean he didn't worry about what it did to Hernan's body.

After a moment of a staring contest, Kirk sighed. That was as close as he ever got to conceding. Hernan releases Kirk to prepare it, making himself at home in the dim lab. With his laser vision, he lights the fireplace Kirk neglects more often than not and grabs a blanket off Kirk's recliner. The blanket is a new prop in Kirk's lab, complements of Hernan for exactly these occasions. He spreads it down in front of the fireplace, kneels down, and moves to take off his shirt while he waits.

"Don't," Kirk says as Hernan begins to lift his shirt. Hernan looks over his shoulder to where Kirk is fiddling with the liquid kryptonite and a bottle of whiskey. He continues to mix the green drink as though he hadn't said anything at all.

"You just could tell me you want to take my shirt off yourself," Hernan says. His words are as warm as the fire offering a warm glow around Hernan. 

Kirk hums and a moment later, he's kneeling beside Hernan, offering the glass. Their fingers brush a moment longer than necessary as Hernan accepts it, a quiet, "Gracias," hanging between them. The moment the liquid settles on Hernan's tongue, Kirk's pupils dilate. He watches Hernan's Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, shifting closer as he imagines being fangs deep in the flawless, unmarked skin of Hernan's neck.

Hernan smirks, holding his gaze as he finishes the drink. His expression stays sturdy, even as he winces at the kryptonite immediately taking effect. It's not strong enough to be entirely uncomfortable, but Kirk knows it isn't exactly pleasant either. Nevertheless, Hernan swipes his tongue over the rim to be sure he's gotten every drip. Kirk's eyes nearly go completely black at that, yet he stays completely still. Hernan could laugh, but instead he beckons Kirk to sit in his lap. 

Kirk slides into place and half-sighs, half-laughs as Hernan pulls Kirk right on top of his groin. Hernan's already half-hard, but it's never taken much to arouse him when it comes to Kirk. This time Kirk's the one who smirks. "Somebody's eager."

"You'll never know what you do to me," Hernan confesses between kisses. His hands are in Kirk's hair, messing it up from the slicked hairstyle he usually leaves it in. 

"Hmm," Kirk hums. It sounds as teasing as the way he pushes down against the growing bulge. "I think I have an idea."

They fumble about for some minutes, waiting for the kryptonite to take effect. Hernan's lips are more pliant under Kirk's fangs, but still not ready to be pierced. It's not long before they pull away - and it's Hernan this time - who looks at Kirk like he's something special, the fire dancing over his sharp features in a way that makes the shadows look like they're dancing.

"Qué guapo eres." It's no more than an exhale as Hernan looks at Kirk reverently with those deep brown eyes. Kirk's heard that breathless string of words enough times to know Hernan wants Kirk to accept how beautiful he is. It's times like now that Kirk can't understand what Hernan sees. He's the Superman. He could have anybody, yet here they are, tangled together. Hernan thumbs the dark circles beneath his eyes, looks fearlessly - no, lovingly - at his bloodshot eyes, kisses his inhumanly pale skin. Hernan never says anything about his nearly lifeless pulse or how cold his fingers must feel when Hernan threads their fingers together. 

"Off," Kirk commands, tugging at the hem of Hernan's shirt. A topless Hernan is a welcome distraction to his own insecurities. Hernan is wearing civilian clothing for a rare change, and as much as he likes seeing Hernan's neckline in a casual shirt, he much prefers the sight of Hernan's neckline out of it. When they were younger, Hernan would remove his shirt for Kirk to feast with the excuse that his shirt might get bloodied. That was before Kirk realized Hernan was trying to bait him - not that it took long for Kirk to fall hook, line, and sinker. Now it had merely become part of their ritual. Hernan smirks and Kirk wonders if perhaps he's thinking of the memories as well.

"Hardly seems fair," Hernan teases as Kirk helps push the shirt over his head. Kirk runs his long, bony fingers over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Hernan's body is unlike his own, even before he changed into Batman. Hernan is all muscle and warm blood, the exact opposite of Kirk's lean, bloodless body. Maybe that's why he loves to run his mouth up and down Hernan's neck, lick at his nipples, dip his tongue into Hernan's warm navel. It's not long before Hernan is a groaning mess. Kirk grins, pushing himself further up Hernan's lap and pinning the man's back to the blanket beneath them. The kryptonite must be working because normally Hernan wouldn't even budge at such a motion.

"Nice view," Kirk muses. He traces the trails of dark hair on the man's body, lingering at his nipples. Hernan bucks beneath him and Kirk grins. He may not understand what Hernan saw in him, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate every twitch of Hernan's body every time Kirk touched him. "Feeling okay?"

Hernan nods, pushing his hips up. "This helps."

Kirk doesn't even have to resist the urge to roll his eyes at Hernan. He just leans in and nips tentatively at Hernan's neck. By the sharp breath Hernan takes and the pliant elasticity beneath his mouth, Kirk suspects Hernan's nearly ready. 

"Feels good," Hernan breathes, so Kirk continues to bite experimentally. It's never the same; sometimes it takes longer before the effects kick in, sometimes their window of opportunity is shorter than usual. 

Today is somewhere on the quicker side of the spectrum because Hernan gasps shortly after, eyes going wide as Kirk's teeth draw blood. Kirk's instinct tell him to dive in, to feast, to drink until he's plumped with Hernan's blood. He stays completely still, waiting for Hernan's approval. It's been over ten years, ten years of Hernan squeezing Kirk's shoulders and asking, "what are you waiting for?" 

It's all the prompting Kirk needs. With the last of his wits, he licks Hernan's wound clean, the edges of his teeth grazing skin. Kirk suspects Hernan likes this as much as he does because Hernan squirms delightfully beneath him and he pulls at Kirk's hair as he feasts. Hernan's back arches into a perfect bow when Kirk's teeth finally sink in. Kirk holds him still, cradling Hernan's head to move him into the position he wants. 

"Taste good?" Hernan stutters as Kirk lets out an unintentional moan. 

After another deep gulp of Hernan's blood, Kirk pulls away. He licks as the punctured bites, but without Hernan's superhuman healing it remains bloody. He sits back up, lips and mouth glistening with Hernan's blood. His eyes are fixed on the small wounds on Hernan's neck that continues to ooze that _euphoric_ tasting blood, even as he says cockily, "want to try?"

Hernan groans and that's as much of an answer as Kirk will get. This time he leans in to kiss Hernan and sighs as the man licks himself off Kirk's mouth. Hernan's taste is fresh on Kirk's tongue and he can _smell_ the pooling blood on his neck. It's enough to drive any man mad. Kirk places his hand on Hernan's neck and drags it over his collarbone and chest. He breaks away from Hernan's mouth to lap at the blood until Hernan's skin glistens with Kirk's saliva. Some couples might do this whip cream; Hernan and Kirk do it with Hernan's blood.

Once Kirk's licked Hernan's chest and nipples clean, he sets back to Hernan's mouth. He's gorgeous with his lips bright and red like this and Kirk doesn't think he's seen anything quite as beautiful. He vaguely registers Hernan's ankles locks around the small of his back and Hernan hoisting himself up to rub his now fully erect length against Kirk.

"Bite me," Hernan pleads between kisses. He runs his tongue along Kirk's top fangs and this time his tongue pricks. A thin - perfect, Kirk thinks - strip of blood forms on his tongue and leaves a stain of red as Hernan licks along his lips. Kirk's drank enough blood that his blush is noticeable this time, but how can refuse a request as provocative as that?

Kirk licks along Hernan's bloodied lip just as Hernan slides his bloody tongue against Kirk's. Hernan's goading him into it and there's no point in resisting, so Kirk bites Hernan's bottom lip. He lets the blood pool for a moment before licking it clean and lapping at Hernan's mouth. Hernan's grip starts to become frantic and Kirk realizes he's just as hard. It's a perfect moment of Kirk tasting Hernan tasting himself and wanting more.

"Que rico," Kirk says, licking his lips. Despite their years together, Kirk hadn't picked up much Spanish. This was the one phrase he'd perfected after he realized how it affected Hernan. The way his eyes darkened, the way he'd press himself in to Kirk, Kirk would never get enough of that. 

Hernan's reaction this time is more charged than usual. He rolls them over so that their positions are reversed, his weight comfortably settled on Kirk's hips. He rolls his hips once, twice, letting out a pleased, deep sound at the way Kirk groans. Hernan doesn't need superspeed to kick off his pants and pull off Kirk's uniform. It's a bit of a struggle with Kirk in his typical costume, but they're both soon naked with the exception of crusted blood along Hernan's neck and Kirk's mouth. Hernan makes to kiss Kirk again but Kirk presses his palm against his chest and pushes. He takes a moment to recollect his cool, but Hernan doesn't press him. He merely sits there, cheeks flushed, lips bruised, and eyes wide with lust. 

"Lube," Kirk says evenly. "Top drawer next to-"

"-the laptop," Hernan finishes smugly. Kirk registers the sound of a drawer opening and closing a second later after seeing the bottle of lube and condom Hernan presents to him. 

"The laptop," Kirk agrees, taking the lube from Hernan and measuring and adequate amount. Hernan's more eager, already opening the condom and rolling it onto Kirk. Kirk raises a single brow, watching Hernan steadily. Not that he doesn't enjoy topping, but's surprised at Hernan's enthusiasm. Maybe it was his upbringing, but Hernan was particularly conservative about certain things. While he no longer perceived bottoming as a threat to his machismo, Kirk knew Hernan still preferred the sweet lovemaking of missionary regardless of giving or receiving. Riding Kirk on the floor was a big departure from their usual lovemaking, but he supposed the fire and the sweet words spilling from Hernan's mouth made up for it.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kirk lays back and motions for Hernan to come closer. Hernan holds his cheeks apart as Kirk slowly opens him. When they first started to experiment - and Kirk was _very_ thorough about the experimentation process - they quickly learned fingering was one of Hernan's favorite parts about sex. Kirk always took his time and opened Hernan slowly, even knowing that his partner was capable of rougher handling. The thing is, Hernan _likes_ it soft. He likes pushing his ass on Kirk's fingers like now, throat bared and back arched. 

Kirk leans up to lick at the scab on Hernan's neck as he adds a third finger. His other hand kneads Hernan's ass, pinching every now and then. Hernan shudders beneath his touch, ass clenching on his fingers while letting out a deep moan. Kirk's more than content to let Hernan set the pace. He's always enjoyed how Hernan greedily rocks onto his hand. Hernan practically does all the work as Kirk bites off the scab and sets to lapping Hernan's blood once more. 

"Kirk," Hernan groans not long after. "Now."

"I have you," Kirk assures him, kissing over the reopened wound. He holds his dick steady as Hernan hovers over it and lines up. 

Hernan may enjoy fingering the best, but this is Kirk's favorite part. He loves watching Hernan's face as it cycles through a range of expressions. His bloody lips and the little sliver of that pink-red tongue only add to it. Hernan's eyes are shut in concentration, adjusting to taking Kirk inside him. When he's seated on Kirk, he smiles as if the president had personally congratulated them; it's almost as beautiful as when Hernan opens his eyes and whispers, "you feel so good, papi."

Kirk holds back a choke, opting to nod instead. "Ready?"

The way Hernan purrs, Kirk's unable to hold back from bucking against Hernan. They groan together, quickly finding a rhythm that works for the both of them. Kirk exhales sharply as Hernan lifts up and sinks onto his cock. How he ended up with this beautiful, perfect _Super_ man, he'll never understand. He's absolutely gorgeous, biting his lip or groaning out a, "papacito," or, "yes," "more," "harder." Kirk traces the line of blood from his neck down to where it's dribbled on his ribs as Hernan bounces on his cock. It's distracting how pretty Hernan is when he's bleeding and all of Kirk's senses are attuned to him. Kirk's always been quiet during sex, more pleased to feel Hernan with his hypersensitivity. A mere brush of fingers makes Kirk trembling when he's this aware of Hernan's smell, taste, touch. He focuses on the slightest of Hernan's twitches and the way his voice changes in the most subtlest ways even as he noisly demands Kirk fuck him harder.

With the sudden urger to reach out to his beautiful Superman, Hernan catches Kirk's hand halfway down its decent, and Kirk can't bring himself to break away. Hernan squeezes his hand as hard as he rides Kirk, despite Kirk meeting Hernan thrust for thrust. Kirk fumbles with his free hand for the lube and pours it with one hand. Most of it falls on the dusty floor, but he gets enough that his hand is slick enough to glide against Hernan's dick. Hernan groans in appreciation, encouraging Kirk to stroke him harder, faster. 

Kirk's pace becomes increasingly sloppier, but he gives up when Hernan leans down and bites his throat. With a final snap of his hips, he presses into Hernan and releases into him. Kirk comes as quietly as he was the entire time, groaning out an uncharacteristically guttural, "yes." Hernan lets out a long moan as he rides through Kirk's orgasm. Moments after, he presses his mouth over Kirk's bared fangs, kissing him through the final shudders. 

It's Hernan, not Kirk, who pulls off of Kirk and pulls off the condom before it gets uncomfortable. Kirk has enough sense to at least recoat his hands with lube and finger and stroke Hernan until he finishes. It doesn't take long until Hernan is a noisy mess, pushing against Kirk's fingers and begging him to come. 

"Tell me," Kirk says in a voice that sounds raspier than he'd prefer.

"I love you." It's little more than a breathey confession and more honest than Kirk would prefer. Though Kirk is aware that he and Hernan have been a thing for years now, it's also _not_ what he'd been expecting. But it's not untrue. He slides his fingers against Hernan's prostate and that's the moment Hernan decides to breathe, "te amo." 

Kirk swears he nearly sees stars again but this time it's Hernan coming on his hand. Kirk strokes him through the last of it until Hernan's too sensitive to do more than collapses on top of him. 

Kirk's both annoyed and pleased to notice that Hernan's neck has healed since he last bit it. The kryptonite must have ran its course - or Kirk drank it all. But that's a question for another time because Kirk's brain hasn't quite caught up to the part where Hernan is too heavy to be laying on him like this. He mumbles incoherently and Hernan knows better, rolling onto his side and immediately reaching out for Kirk. 

This is the part Kirk doesn't admit to liking. This is the part where Hernan mouths at any skin his lips can reach. This is the part where Kirk turns to him and kisses him lightly and they ride out their shared bliss. This is the part where they hold each other and kiss lazily until they come down together, sticky and hot. 

"Full?" Hernan breathes against Kirk's neck. Kirk nods as Hernan presses against his body. "Good."

There are a few things about Superman the public would never guess, the most surprising being that Superman - or rather, Hernan Guerra - much prefers to be the little spoon. Hernan rests his head on Kirk's chest, planting a quick kiss just over his heart. Snuggling closer, he whispers, "mi vamipirito."

Kirk closes his eyes and focuses on how his heart pounds fast and strong.


End file.
